


Though Oft We Break

by o2doko



Category: CLAMP - Works, Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-12 08:32:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2102616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/o2doko/pseuds/o2doko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They have their revenge, and the constant threat looming over all their lives has finally passed - but both Kurogane and Fai still have a lot of healing left to do.  Fortunately, neither of them has to do it alone.  </p><p>[Set between the final battle and the end of the series, during their convalescence in Clow Country.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Though Oft We Break

**Author's Note:**

> Things start moving fast after everything goes down in Tokyo, and it is my personal belief that there is no way Fai could’ve possibly processed everything he was dealing with as quickly as the story makes it seem he did. Many shippers start Fai and Kurogane’s relationship in Nihon, after the Celes arc, if not sooner, but I feel that that’s a bit early. Fai clearly forgives Kurogane at that point, but they still had a lot of shit to work out, and they didn’t really have any time to do it before they were off to confront Fei Wong Reed. So this fic operates under the premise that they don’t start any relationship stuff until post-series.
> 
> Also - I recently re-read the manga in preparation for the new chapters, and there are still a few things I’m confused about concerning Fai. The biggest question for me is, is he still a vampire at the end of the story? Yuuko told him that he would no longer be a vampire if he got the magic that Clone!Sayoran stole from him, but that was back when he was only down half of his power. Does the fact that he still only has half of his power negate her statement? We’re told that Sayoran’s ability to use Fai’s magic grew stronger the more he used it, but does that mean that the power itself was stronger when it was returned to Fai? If so, does that compensate for the magic he gave away in exchange for Kurogane’s cyber arm? Is he still as strong now as he was in the past, or still weaker? If he’s weaker, is he still a vampire? Fandom itself seems pretty split on this, so I’ve decided, for the sake of this story, at least, that he is still a vampire - but that he needs to feed less often. Also, official CLAMP artwork from the art book shows him wearing the clothes he has on at the end of the series with both blue eyes, but I’m a bit confused about this, too, since he gave away the blue of his one eye to Yuuko. Are they both blue now because the power he got back was greater? I’ve seen other writers have his eyes flash in between gold and blue, depending on which instinct was currently leading, and I like that, so that’s what I’m running with here. Feel free to correct me in the comments if I’ve missed something, but bear with me for the duration of the fic.

Time had been something of a confusing blur for Kurogane recently, and never more so than when he awoke alone in Clow Country. There was still blood in his mouth, and he could smell the singed tips of his frayed hair, but he was wearing clothes that were not his and the arm he’d so recently acquired was missing again. Carefully, mindful of the ache and pull and stretch of bruised muscles and knitting flesh, the ninja levered himself up onto his remaining elbow and bleary attempted to piece together his surroundings.

It was warm in the room, though not unpleasantly so. The air smelled like sand and heat and freshly laundered linen, underscored slightly by the heavier, sharper tang of herbs and ointment, and the balcony door directly across from his bed had been left open to accommodate the breeze. White, gauzy drapes floated and fluttered in the peaceful wind, occasionally shifting to reveal a smattering of jewel-colored puddles on the floor left by a sun catcher as yet unseen. He thought he could hear the faint sound of distant wind chimes, too, though they didn’t sound like the ones he knew from Nihon, and so he wasn’t entirely sure. The bed he was lying in was large - almost comically so. _Royalty_ , he thought automatically, and then his eyes narrowed in concern as his thoughts automatically jumped to Sakura.

“She is alright.”

Someone was standing in the doorway, watching him. Kurogane wasn’t sure which bothered him more - that he hadn’t noticed the figure until now, or that it appeared as though the newcomer could read his thoughts.

They’d never met before, at least not with any degree of formality, though Kurogane most definitely had a memory of the young man which smelled vaguely of _okonomiyaki_. His quiet, open smile was definitely the same. The amber eyes studying him were kind and soft behind his round spectacles, but Kurogane could tell from the way he carried himself that he was not weak. _Mage_ , he thought automatically, and then his eyes narrowed in concern as his thoughts automatically jumped to Fai.

“He’s alright, too,” the man murmured gently as he stepped across the threshold and into the room. “Sayoran as well. And the little one.”

“... I wish you wouldn’t do that,” Kurogane muttered, looking away towards the balcony again. It seemed the safest thing to say.

“I’m not trying to invade your thoughts. It’s just that your concern was written all over your face.”

“Tch.”

Yukito smiled a small, private smile to himself, thinking of a different dark-haired warrior. He settled into the chair situated close to Kurogane’s bedside, absently and automatically adjusting the folds of his long robes around him. _He’s been in the ruins recently_ , Kurogane mused; water droplets still shone like diamonds in his pale hair, especially impressive given the heat of the afternoon.

It made sense. They must have been as confused about what had happened as he was. Though if they were still looking for answers in that cursed place, it must have meant that Sakura was still unconscious.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Three days. You’re the first to awaken.”

 _Great. Commence the interrogation._ “What’s the damage, then?”

“No broken bones; nothing life-threatening, for any of you.” Yukito sounded slightly awed at that, and Kurogane couldn’t blame him. Truth be told, he was a little surprised himself. “But that artificial arm of yours was destroyed. We were afraid to remove it, honestly, because we’re not really certain how it works - but the skin surrounding the limb desperately needed tending to.”

Kurogane’s fingers flexed automatically, but he’d be damned if he was going to fuss self-consciously with his empty sleeve in front of a total stranger.

Speaking of.

“... Tended to by you?”

“By myself, and by the queen,” Yukito answered serenely, graciously ignoring Kurogane’s slight flinch. “The vast majority of your wounds were magic-induced, and needed to be treated with spells as well as with more mundane methods.”

This made Kurogane’s wandering thoughts strike up against another point of concern, and his crimson eyes narrowed. “The battle was pretty physical for the kid and I. But the other two ... three ... they haven’t awoken yet?”

Yukito’s eyes studied Kurogane’s face a moment, not unkindly. He seemed to be working out what explanation would be the simplest and least confusing for him. Kurogane tried hard not to bristle in response. He’d learned a lot, after all, hadn’t he? Much more about magic and cross-dimensional travel and other things that no ninja in their right mind had any business knowing about.

“The little one suffered a strong blow to the head, it seems; that’s why he - she? - still sleeps. As to Princess Sakura and your friend ... magic use takes its toll, too, and it appears that they both pushed themselves beyond all reasonable limitations. They are both incredibly strong.” The note of awe was back in Yukito’s voice, and Kurogane wondered where the hell that little spark of pride in his chest had come from.

“And you know this because you’re a magic user, too, I assume?”

“Yes. I am currently a candidate for the priesthood - my name is Yukito. My apologies; I should have said as much before.”

Kurogane merely shook his head. He dimly recollected that this young man had helped him limp to the palace after the fight had ended, and that he’d inadvertently smeared blood all over the youth’s pristine white robes.

“So ... Sakura and the mage; they’re just ... tired?” he pressed, still uneasy on that account.

“More or less, yes. They are not in any danger. Their wounds are more ... spiritual than physical. It is nothing that rest cannot cure.”

Kurogane felt slightly mollified by this. But still. “Where are they?” he asked, pushing himself up into a full sitting position. The motion caused a wave of incapacitating dizziness that momentarily pulled him up short. He did his best not to wince.

“They are in their own rooms, here in the same corridor as yours. You may see them any time you like, but - if I may - I think it’s better for you to rest now. I assure you, they are in no danger. We have been monitoring you closely. Princess Sakura and Sayroan are very dear to us all, as is anyone who came to their aid in a time of such obvious crisis.” There was a slight hitch of hesitation over the word ‘crisis’, and Kurogane forced himself to relax back against his pillows again, knowing it was his turn to start answering questions.

*

Once he felt relatively certain that he could manage his own two feet without incident, he slipped out of his room and went to look in on the others.

Sakura was still asleep, lying on her side with her body curled protectively around a likewise sleeping Mokona. She looked pale, but otherwise peaceful. Because there was no one around to see him do it, Kurogane gently brushed her bangs away from her closed eyes. He still wasn’t entirely clear about which Sakura this was, but, all the same, she had fought hard and valiantly and he was proud of her.

In the intervening day and a half or so that had passed since Kurogane had first opened his own eyes, Sayoran had awoken, too. He was sitting up in bed when Kurogane entered his room, a large book braced against one knee. The boy’s slightly dazed expression clearly said that he was still too dizzy to attempt to read it. He smiled quietly at his friend and mentor, but his eyes were faraway and it was obvious that he wasn’t ready to talk just yet.

Fai was sprawled untidily across his own bed, sheets tangled in his too-long legs and bandaged hands resting near his head. His eyes were closed, his overgrown hair falling messily across his face, but Kurogane could tell from the rhythm of his breathing that he wasn’t asleep.

“ _Saa_ , Kuro-daddy ... making the rounds?” he teased without opening his eyes. The words were familiar enough, but his voice rang hollow and hoarse. His skin was almost as white as the bed sheets bunched around him.

“Shut up,” Kurogane retorted, automatically and without heat. He came around to sit in the inevitable chair that had been left standing sentinel by all of their bedsides. “How long have you been awake?”

“Not long. Since this morning. I think it was this morning.” His eyes opened a slit to regard his friend, though he made no move to push away the hair obstructing his vision. Even though he’d been expecting it, the bright sapphire sheen peeking out from behind the curtain of gold still startled Kurogane.

“There was a cut on your cheek when we left the ruins,” Kurogane started carefully, having no idea how best to approach this. “It’s not there now. So ... the vampire thing ...?”

Fai closed his eyes again but smiled faintly, curling his lips back a moment to briefly display his fangs. “Yup. Looks like.”

“Are you hungry?” He stared hard at the pale, shadowed face across from him, willing honesty.

“ _Ouch_ , Kuro-puppy. So blunt.” Fai’s voice was thin, little more than a ghost’s sigh on a breeze. But it wasn’t brittle, the way it had been before when they’d spoken of such things; just tired.

“Are you?” he pressed insistently, ignoring the jab.

“No, Kuro-tan. I’m alright.”

It was warm in the room, same as it was everywhere else, but both the window and the balcony door were shut. The air had a stuffy, claustrophobic feel to it that made Kurogane restless. The tell-tale scent of herbs and ointment was missing, but the leftover residue from a flurry of healing spells still hung in the air, snapping like static dogs at his heels and making his hair stand on end. There were far more blankets heaped on the bed than had any right to be there, chilly nights or no.

“You sure? You lost a lot of blood. And you need sustenance to heal.”

“Aw, Daddy, such concern.”

“Fai.”

Fai opened his eyes a slit again. The use of his name had startled him, the way Kurogane had intended it to.

“I’m honestly alright. My physical wounds have healed already - these are for our hosts’ sakes, really, because I haven’t figured out how to explain yet.” He fluttered his bandaged hands weakly against the mattress. “I’m a little hungry, but it’s not pressing. And I’m not even sure we could go through the motions just now. I haven’t even managed sitting up yet.” He smiled again. “But it isn’t an emergency, regardless. I promise.”

“... Your physical wounds?” Kurogane pressed quietly. He’d been relatively satisfied by Fai’s assurances, but it seemed there was still something else left for him to worry over. “That other mage said you had ... spiritual wounds? From the magic?”

Fai was silent for a moment, mulling that idea over. Finally, he said, “Think of it this way, Kuro-pii - I’ve pulled my magic muscles. Many, many, many magic muscles. All at once, because I haven’t properly stretched in ages. Tore some, even. And I ran the magic marathon in shoes that didn’t really fit quite right, because my powers had just been returned to me and we weren’t re-acclimated yet. Yes, that’s it, maybe - I ran a marathon in shoes that didn’t quite fit, and I was out of shape and didn’t even stretch first.”

Kurogane wanted to feel affronted at having the situation so obviously over-simplified for his benefit, but he couldn't quite work up the energy to.

“And the vampire blood isn’t healing these ... pulled muscles?”

“No. It doesn’t work like that.”

“Tell me how it works, then.”

Fai huffed a soft, faint laugh, undoubtedly thinking something that started with ‘stubborn’ and ended with ‘ninja’, but all he said was, “Magic is different, depending. Mine comes from the heart. And I’ve been very heartsick of late. It’s alright. I just need to give it time to heal.”

Kurogane had absolutely no idea what to say to that. So he merely grunted, and then; “Yukito - that other mage - said you were very strong. He sounded impressed.”

Fai’s lips quirked again, though he didn’t open his eyes. “And this pleased you?”

“Sakura told us before that _he’s_ very strong.”

“Mm. He is.”

“But you’re stronger?”

Fai huffed. “Yes, Kuro-rin. I’m stronger.”

“Even with half your magic?”

“You are the most ridiculous man I have ever met.”

“Like you’re one to talk. ... Are you stronger than the queen, too?”

“ _Yes_ , you lunatic. Now hush; I’m trying to sleep.” The novelty of being called a lunatic by _Fai_ , of all people, made Kurogane quirk an eyebrow - not that Fai could see it with his eyes closed. But even more novel was the bandaged hand Fai then turned over in clear invitation, not to mention the fact that Kurogane actually reached out to obligingly twine their fingers together before he could think better of it.

*

“This game is stupid,” the ninja announced, scowling as Fai captured one of his bishops. “It doesn’t make any sense. Why would a bishop even be in a fight? Why can’t the knight move wherever it wants?”

“Because those are the rules, Kuro-won,” Fai chuckled, tapping the black bishop against his cheek and smiling. He had a little more color today, Kurogane was pleased to notice, and he’d even bothered to tie his tousled hair back out of his eyes.

“I don’t like this game.”

“You don’t like to _lose_ ,” Fai countered with a smirk. “Check, by the way.”

“Tch. You’re not smarter than me just because you keep winning.”

“You’re not losing because you’re stupid, Kuro-tan. You’re losing because you’re impatient. Check mate.”

Kurogane growled, pushing the game board off to the side and ignoring Fai’s triumphant, teasing grin. “I don’t think I can go another day sitting around doing nothing,” he muttered, glaring moodily in the direction of the window and the world outside.

Fai yawned, leaning back against the pillows he’d propped up along the headboard. “Ask the prince to give you a tour or something. I’m sure he’d enjoy the opportunity to pick your brain some more.”

“Hmph. The mage already offered to show me around.”

Kurogane glanced back at Fai just in time to see some strange, indecipherable look flash through his eyes - which, the ninja was prepared to swear, had momentarily turned golden. “You two seem to be getting along.” There was an edge to the wizard’s voice that perplexed the ninja.

“You don’t like him?”

“I never said that.”

“How can you not like him? The two of you are practically the same person.”

Fai blinked, looking torn between amusement, confusion, and outright annoyance. “In what way are we even remotely the same person?” he demanded.

“No, you’re right - completely different. He is much, much nicer than you are.” Kurogane ducked effortlessly as Fai threw the captured bishop at his head. “... See? Case in point.”

“Tell him he’s already got more moody brunette than he knows what to do with,” Fai muttered, half to himself, crossing his arms and taking a turn at looking toward the window.

Kurogane wasn’t sure how to interpret that, so he picked up one of the chess board’s pawns and threw it at Fai instead.

“Ow.”

“Idiot. Then dodge next time.”

“It’s cruel to torture an invalid, Kuro-puppy.”

“‘Invalid’, my ass. When are you going to finally get out of bed?”

“I’m a magician, not a psychic. Why, what’s your hurry?”

“I’m bored.”

“I wasn’t aware that it was my job to entertain you. Although, I suppose if I asked Touya to carry me, I could - ow!”

Kurogane smirked. “Serves you right. He’s a prince; have some respect.”

“ _I’m_ a prince, and you just threw a heavy piece of wood at my head.”

That brought Kurogane up short. He wasn’t sure if that was the sort of thing he was allowed to make jokes about yet. Finally, he hedged with, “Royal blood, maybe, but with all the manors of the kitchen staff.”

But he’d hesitated too long; a shadow of that old awkwardness had slipped between them again. “Indeed,” Fai agreed with a tired, half-hearted attempt at a smile. “Well. Sorry, Kuro-won. No jaunts about the palace for me tonight. Maybe you _should_ ask Yukito. I’m afraid I’m not going to be very good company.” He yawned melodramatically to illustrate the point.

There didn’t seem to be much to say after that, so Kurogane bade his friend an awkward ‘good night’ and beat a hasty retreat back to the silence of his own room.

*

Though he didn’t like to dwell on it too often, there were decided advantages to the blood bond Kurogane now shared with Fai. For instance, instead of automatically murdering the mage when he caught the ninja asleep and unawares, the familiarity of his presence bled through Kurogane’s consciousness just in the nick of time to prevent disaster.

“Nn?” Kurogane inquired sleepily, pushing himself up on his elbow and trying to force himself awake. It would only take a second or two - that was one of the perks of being a trained warrior - but he could sense Fai’s amusement in the interim. “What’s the matter? Kids all right?”

“Aw, Kuro-daddy. Everything’s fine; I just wanted to see how far my legs could get me. Turns out, _exactly_ this far.” And he collapsed onto the edge of the mattress with an exhausted little totter.

Kurogane blinked at him, struggling to process this. Finally, he asked, “What time is it?”

“No idea.” Fai passed a tired hand over his face, paler than ever in the moonlight, and this close Kurogane could see that he was shaking a little with fatigue.

“Idiot,” he growled, sitting up all the way and glaring. “This couldn’t wait until tomorrow? You told me you were tired.”

“I am. But you were having a bad dream.”

“No, I wasn’t.” He stared at the mage, confused.

“Yes, you were. I could feel it.”

“I wasn’t, though. I was dreaming about ... well, I don’t remember what I was dreaming about. But it wasn’t anything bad. And how would you know, anyway?”

Fai shrugged wearily. “Vampire thing.”

“As in, ‘I can sense nightmares,’ or as in, ‘I can sense your nightmares’?”

“As in, ‘I can sense your emotions.’ All the time. Like an undercurrent in my bloodstream.”

“You never told me about that.”

“Well. We weren’t exactly playing ‘show and tell’ with all this stuff before ... before.”

“I wasn’t having a nightmare.”

“ _Saa_. Must’ve been one of mine, then. It’s hard to pick everything apart sometimes; tends to get a bit jumbled.”

Kurogane stared at him for a long moment, and finally fumbled awkwardly, “I had thought - now that you’ve - I mean, the witch said. But you’ve got your powers back, and nothing’s changed. You shouldn’t have given away the rest of it.”

Fai shrugged. “I was thinking in the short term, not the long term, and I don’t regret it.” He fidgeted with the bed sheet for another stretch of silence, creasing the fabric with his long, cold fingers and then smoothing it flat again, over and over and over. “It was never my intention to imprison you with this, though. Like I said, I wasn’t thinking about the long-term when I made my bargain with Yuuko.”

Kurogane frowned at the lighter-colored darkness spilling in from the balcony. He‘d kept the door open; something about closed doors in foreign sick rooms set his teeth on edge. The unseen wind chimes etched silver murmurings in the quiet spaces between the two men, eerie and soft.

“I meant for you, idiot, not for me. I don’t care. But I know how much you hate it.”

“I don’t hate it.” Fai tucked a stray lock of his sleep-tousled hair behind one ear, just to give his restless fingers something else to do. “It is what it is; I’d prefer not to be this way, but I can live with it. What I hated was the powerlessness - the fact that it should’ve been my choice, and wasn’t. I hated you, for putting me in that position. But now ... well, like I said. It is what it is.”

“Nn. Um. I had no idea the connection between us would be that strong.”

“Blood is powerful, Kuro-chu.” Kurogane felt like the nickname was a sort of reassurance, and he was secretly grateful for that. “There are entire fields of magic devoted to working almost exclusively with blood and blood sacrifices, for example. If I drink deep enough, I can taste your memories sometimes, too.” He tilted his head to the side, staring off into the darkness at something that wasn’t there. “Vampires are the ultimate predators that way, I guess. It’s really rather invasive, which is one of the reasons I was so resistant to drink your blood; it strips you bare. In all ways. And I knew you’d hate that.”

Kurogane shifted on the bed. “It’s not my favorite thing, no.”

“Would you have gone through with the ritual if you’d known?”

“Yes.” The answer came promptly, without any hesitation whatsoever. “Don’t ask stupid questions.” Fai smiled faintly in the dark. “.... Though I admit that now I’m wondering if ... I mean, do you actually see my dreams?” He was not blushing. He was _not_.

“No. I sense your emotions. I don’t see what you’re seeing. The confusion comes when the emotions bleed through into my own dreams, because then I just get a bit tangled up about whose feelings belong to whom. It’s the same with your memories - I get the emotional residue, not any concrete information about the moment itself.”

“Sounds like a headache.”

Another quiet smile. “It can be, yes.”

“So ... what about right now? Do you know what I’m feeling?"

Fai frowned a moment, head tilted to one side as though he were listening to something only he could hear. Kurogane held his breath. But after a slight pause, the mage shook his head. “Not exactly,” he explained slowly. “It would be like trying to separate individual threads from a tapestry. It’s like ... a current of soundless music.” He shrugged apologetically. “It spikes when you’re upset. Other than that, it’s mostly a blur that just feels like ... you.”

“You told me in Nihon that you have always been able to sense your brother’s presence, too. Is that because of the blood you share? Is it the same sort of feeling?”

He wasn’t sure why he’d asked that. It was the sort of topic he knew from experience to steer carefully clear of. But the soft patter of the wind chimes had swelled like rain droplets on steel railings, and the clouds had shifted, and now the moonlight spilling through the doorway was strong enough to touch Fai’s ghost-white skin and pierce straight through it. The mage’s bright eyes were shadowed by the darkness into the color of old bruises, and occasionally his tired body would sway to one side like a ship listing on choppy waters. He looked like one of the paper cranes Princess Tomoyo knew how to make: delicate, beautiful, intricate and thin, and one careless finger’s twitch away from annihilation.

Maybe that was why.

“No,” Fai said eventually. His voice was quiet, but it was steady; strong. “It’s different from that. Fai is dead. But things which are strong in magic often leave something behind. An ... after-image of sorts. The stronger the magic, the stronger the residue. Non-magic users can even feel it, sometimes. It often gets confused with ghosts. When people think a place or thing is haunted, that’s usually what they’re sensing. Real ghosts rarely confine themselves that way.”

“What is Fai haunting?” Kurogane ventured, brow furrowed as he thought about the devastated world they’d left behind in Celes.

“Me.”

Kurogane blinked. “I don’t understand.”

And in spite of the conversation, it made Fai smile slightly, because that simplistic honesty - devoid of the pride that would have made other people simply nod their heads and leave it alone - was one of the things he’d come to value most in the other.

Maybe that’s why he allowed himself, for one of the few times in any of his waking conversations, to simply say what he was thinking. “My body is his haunted house. I feel him walking through the spaces between my ribs; his footfalls are tattooed inside my veins and echoed by the rhythm of my heartbeat. His dreams pool behind my knee caps and in the hollows of my elbows at night when I cannot sleep, and sometimes, I hear his voice whispering inside of my head when I’m trying to think. Every time I use magic, I can feel his small hands pressing against my palms from the inside, because - even more than blood - the magic is - was - what always binds - _bound_ \- us.”

They watched the wind get tangled up like an indignant cat in the thin curtains. The arm Kurogane no longer had hurt a little, and the air smelled thickly of wisteria, even though that didn't make sense.

Kurogane cleared his throat. “There’s a food in my country ... a sort of snack. It’s very bitter. My mother always hated it. Sometimes, when my father was feeling particularly ridiculous, he’d hide bits of it in her food. She’d make the strangest, most hilarious faces when she accidentally ate a piece. And that’s what I think about. When the memories get to loud and too heavy. I think about that weird mix of surprise and revulsion and annoyance and amusement on her face. It makes things inside my head ... quieter. For a time.”

Fai smiled again without looking at him, because he knew exactly what that little piece of information actually was. It wasn’t advice; it wasn’t commiseration. Kurogane was a notoriously private person, and he punished himself when he felt like he’d trespassed by giving away something he didn’t want to share. It had taken quite a while for Fai to figure that out. He was glad that he had.

Kurogane closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again the room was bathed in the full wash of a soft, dandelion-colored morning. Fai was curled up in a self-contained circle beside him on the bed, asleep and at peace, so they both let it go at that.

*

“I’ve seen horses before, Kuro-sama,” Fai protested as Kurogane continued to herd him along. “We had them back in Infinity, remember? You knew how to ride then. Don’t you have horses in Nihon Country?”

“Yeah - big, shaggy brutes built for hard labor and hauling around people in heavy armor. Not like these. Quit whining, and come look.” They were inside the stables now, cut off from the brightening sunshine and abruptly surrounded by the sharp-sweet odors of hay and horse and dung. Fai blinked rapidly a few times while he waited for his eyes to adjust and let Kurogane steer him purposefully towards the third stall on the right. “This one - come look at it. It’s got the smallest little head and the tiniest little feet, and I saw some kid exercising it earlier; it’s faster than the wind.”

The horse contentedly munching oats on the other side of the stall door was a gorgeous little dappled-grey gelding with muscles that rippled like water under the taunt, silk-smooth surface of its beautiful skin. It had a gracefully arched neck and large, intelligent brown eyes, and it huffed softly at their approach but proceeded to ignore them when it realized they did not come bearing snacks. “Hyuu,” Fai not-whistled appreciatively. It was indeed a lovely, impressive animal. Currently of greater interest to him, however, was how excited Kurogane had gotten over it. The ninja wore the bright, slightly manic grin Fai had only ever seen him wear when he was on the verge of killing something stupid and powerful.

“You should ride that one,” the ninja informed him with a sort of decisive finality. Fai found it both endearing and amusing.

“Oh? And which one will you ride?”

“This one over here.” Kurogane hadn’t even hesitated, and he tugged an unprotesting mage off in the direction of another stall. The horse inside was black, of course, a little larger than the grey gelding, though just as fine-boned and beautiful. “There’s a little palomino mare at the end of the row; the stable hands told me that that’s Sakura’s horse. And that Sayoran likes to ride the painted gelding across from it when he visits.” Kurogane pointed the appropriate stalls out to Fai with an enthusiasm that was downright mystifying. “The queen’s got a pretty little white mare to ride, and the king’s horse is that docile brown one over there; the mage prefers that russeted little roan in the corner. But oh, the prince’s horse - come see this thing.” Fai found himself being tugged off towards another door. The stallion inside was large and stone-grey and indisputably powerful. Its black mane cascaded over its perfectly formed head, and it regarded them with the baleful look of a creature who merely tolerates humans because they provide food.

“I had no idea that you liked horses so much,” Fai mused, biting back a laugh. “Kuro-woof’s such a big softie.”

“I like _riding_ ,” Kurogane countered, his ears turning slightly pink around the edges. “It’s just ... I’ve never seen horses like these before. They’re ...” he waved his arm expressively through the air, clearly lacking the vocabulary.

“Well, then let’s go riding,” Fai prompted with a knowing smile. He was entirely unprepared for the way Kurogane’s face lit up, though; it left him at a loss for words in a way that so few things ever did.

“Do you think they’d let us? I mean, it might take me a few minutes, what with the arm and all, and you were just whining about still being tired, but.” He gave his companion a hopeful, critical look.

Fai tapped his lips with one thin finger, thinking it over. “We could ask Touya and Yukito to come with us, in case we prove less up to the task than we think. And we can ride in the afternoon, when it starts cooling down a little. Yes?”

Kurogane grinned at him - that same manic, bursting-at-the-seams smile - and Fai realized that he didn’t feel as tired and worn thin as he had the day before.

*

“He’s going to fall off and hurt himself.”

“Mm. They’re a lot alike.” Yukito smiled. The prince had challenged the ninja to a race, and the proclaimed starting line was drawing close now. Managing the high-strong black horse was proving a bit of a challenge for Kurogane with his one arm, but neither he nor the prince seemed especially bothered by the handicap. They were trotting their horses side-by-side a little ahead of their counterparts, both straining more at the bit than their mounts were.

“Like five-year-old children on a holiday,” Fai agreed, which made the younger man chuckle.

Fai was still tired and stiff and Yukito was gracious company, so the two merely sat their horses and watched from the top of a small dune while the two men raced each other across the sand.

“Magnificent beasts,” Fai hummed appreciatively, watching muscles bunch and coil and flash in the golden, fire-tipped light of the late-afternoon sun.

“Mm. The horses, too,” Yukito agreed with a soft, knowing look in Fai’s direction. The mage just smiled.

*

“Aw, Kuro-rin. You shouldn’t overdo it like that. Gotta walk before you run, etcetera, etcetera.”

“Shut up.”

Fai seemed to find some sort of invitation in that, because he abandoned his artful lounging against the door frame to cross the room and sit beside his friend on the bed. The ninja was sprawled out on his back, still dressed in his riding clothes with his long legs draped over the side of the mattress. “Hyuu. You almost beat the prince, too, one-armed and everything. You’re a good rider, Kuro-pii, but you aren’t going to be able to move a muscle come the morning.”

Kurogane muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘worth it,’ but otherwise didn’t deign to reply.

“You were right, though; that little black horse suited you. I thought it was too small. Big, bad Kuro-woof always seemed better suited to those large, shaggy horses you talked about before. But little Blackie was a good fit.”

“‘Silhouette’,” Kurogane corrected absently. He sounded sleepy, and when Fai looked down at his face, he found that the ninja’s eyes were drifting closed.

“Mm?”

“That’s the horse’s name - ‘Silhouette’. Not ‘Blackie.’ Sounds kind of delicate, but it probably makes more sense in the actual tongue of the country. Yours was ‘Cloud Shadow’, by the way.”

“Appropriate. I barely felt its feet touch the ground the entire time.”

“And that was just walking. You should’ve given him his head for a bit; I would’ve liked to see you run with him awhile.”

“Next time.” Fai smiled, wondering if he’d get his fingers bit for brushing aside the ninja’s forelock. Kurogane’s hair was getting longer; not long, but longer. More time had passed since the start of this than either of them really liked to think about. “I liked watching you run. It suits you.” And he meant all of it: the noble’s horse, and the noble’s clothes; the noble’s pastime, and the way he’d majestically shadowed the majestic prince. “Hawking was popular in both Valeria and Celes,” he mused absently, speaking more to his own train thought than to Kurogane then. “You’d enjoy that, too, I think. And all the warriors at court had these big, beautiful, wolf-like dogs that trotted silently alongside them when they hunted.”

Kurogane was looking at him again, so Fai drew a complicated magical symbol in the air with one long finger and tapped it, sending a series of curling blue-silver lines spiraling downward to the floor to take on the shape of the dog he was describing. It was an extremely lifelike replica, with long, thick white and grey fur and big, ice-blue eyes. It took a turn around the room and then sat by the bed, panting softly. Kurogane could feel its hot breath against his legs.

“You really are powerful, aren’t you?” he murmured, which wasn’t what Fai had been expecting him to say at all.

“Bit of a fetishist, aren’t you, Kuro-woof?” he teased.

Kurogane’s features creased into an annoyed scowl. “Idiot. It’s just ... interesting. That’s all. Everyone I’ve ever met who’s been powerful in some way, even that Dimension Witch, liked to flaunt it. If they didn’t flaunt it, it’s because they didn’t know. Powerful people like to be powerful. They’ve usually worked for it, and they want the whole world to acknowledge that. But you ... I knew you were lying about, well, everything. But I had no idea that you were so strong.”

“‘Strong’ isn’t a word that I've applied to myself very often in the past,” Fai pointed out quietly. “I’ve always regarded my powers as either a curse or a tool. Not as a strength.” He whistled softly between his teeth and watched the big dog gently shimmer out of existence.

“That’s because you’re stupid,” Kurogane muttered, but whatever growly effect he was going for was utterly ruined behind a sleepy yawn.

“It’s because ‘strength’ is a relative term, and means different things to different people,” Fai countered. When Kurogane’s crimson eyes slid shut again, he decided to risk it and lightly brushed the ninja’s dark hair aside with cool, gentle fingers. Kurogane either didn’t notice, or just flat-out chose to ignore the gesture. “Not everyone measures strength by battle prowess.”

“Am I strong, then? By your definition, I mean.” Fai thought that maybe Kurogane was trying to sound challenging, but he just sounded muzzy and absent. It was stupidly endearing.

“Yep. Now, hush; you should sleep.”

“Why?” Kurogane persisted stubbornly. He didn’t open his eyes, though, and his breathing was starting to even out. If he watched closely, Fai could see the tension and alertness in the other man’s muscles uncoiling, sprawling like ribbons across the duvet; disappearing entirely. It was a sign of trust stronger than anyone had ever shown Fai in the past, and he carefully tucked the memory away in a safe place where he knew he wouldn’t lose it.

“Because you’re tired, silly.”

“Not that. The other thing you said.”

Fai thought for a moment. “Because you have one arm, and you rode that horse today like you had two.” He drew another complicated symbol with his finger, this time directly against the sun-varnished skin of Kurogane’s forehead. He leaned forward and kissed him when the ninja opened his mouth to protest - a soft, chaste kiss. And by the time he straightened again, Kurogane was asleep.

“Sweet dreams, Kuro-sama.”

 


End file.
